


No Peace for the Wicked

by fredbassett



Category: Primeval
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-13
Updated: 2013-04-13
Packaged: 2017-12-08 09:48:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/759984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fredbassett/pseuds/fredbassett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stephen opens a bathroom door and gets a pleasant surprise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Peace for the Wicked

Stephen Hart threw open the bathroom door, and dropped his sopping wet, filthy tee shirt and equally disgusting jacket onto the clean white tiles. God, this job was hard on clothes.

Ryan unloaded his pack onto the spare bed and promptly headed for the mini-bar. “How big’s the shower?” he called, flipping the tops off two beers.

Silence was all that greeted his question. 

The soldier dragged his boots off, wondering vaguely how much the Home Office ended up paying in damages to the owners of the various hotels they stayed in. Mud, blood and dinosaur guts didn’t combine well with soft furnishings and elegant carpets.

“No shower,” said Stephen, a note of surprise in his voice. “Bath’s impressive, though.”

Ryan wandered over, shedding clothes en route, the beer bottles dangling by their necks from one large hand.

A slow grin spread over the soldier’s face. “Makes a nice change from a shower. Let’s hope there’s enough hot water to fill it.”

There was, and five minutes later both men were lounging in the large sunken whirlpool bath, watching bubbles rising out of the water, while they downed the second in what promised to be a succession of very cold, very welcome beers.

Ryan slid down under the water, rinsing the shampoo from his short blond hair. The water was hot, the beer was cold, and a very talented hand was stroking his cock. Life really couldn’t get much better.

He reached out and lazily tickled the back of Stephen’s neck. “Want your back scrubbing, Hart?”

Mischievous blue eyes met his, and Stephen Hart shook his head. “Save that for later,” he said, taking a deep breath, and sliding down under the water.

Two long fingered hands slid down Ryan’s chest to grip his hips, then the soldier felt his lover’s lips closing around the head of his cock and Hart started to suck, hard.

Ryan moaned softly and grabbed for the stainless steel handles on the edge of the bath to stop himself from being dragged underwater.

Stephen’s tongue swirled around him, as warm as the water, probing and teasing while his mouth tugged insistently at Ryan’s cock.

A minute later, Stephen’s dark head broke the surface, wide mouth gasping for air.

Ryan grinned. “You need more practice, Hart.”

Hands trailed over Ryan’s chest, tweaking his nipples, then dipped lower to slide over his cock and caress his balls.

“I’ll have you know I used to be able to do two lengths of an Olympic sized pool under water.” The look in the younger man’s blue eyes was challenging. “How good’s your lung capacity, soldier boy?”

“Try me,” said Ryan, returning the look.

Stephen’s hand gripped Ryan’s cock firmly. A few tight fast strokes had the soldier breathing hard through his mouth, hips bucking up into his lover’s grasp. Stephen took several long, slow breaths, then slipped down again into the water, mouth enveloping Ryan’s cock, strong hands pulling his lover under.

Ryan took a deep breath as he sank beneath the bubbles, into the warm, welcoming water.

He felt the soft, insistent pull of Stephen’s lips, the slight rasp of teeth along the sensitive skin on the underside of his cock, followed by hard sucking, combined with the insistent flicking of Stephen’s tongue around his sensitive head.

Ryan’s lungs heaved in his chest, desperate for air, as his hips writhed under Stephen’s grasp, chasing an illusive climax. He bucked up into his lover’s mouth again, forcing his cock down a willing throat, as he fought hard not to gasp as Stephen swallowed around him, sucking hard and fast.

Ryan’s heartbeat sounded unnaturally loud in his own ears as his chest tightened and strained for air. He wasn’t going to be able to hold out … not enough oxygen in his lungs… heat pooled in his belly, sinking lower…his heart pounded in his chest… not enough air… not enough time… his cock twitched in his lover’s mouth, the sensation hovering on that fine dividing line between pleasure and pain…

Ryan’s orgasm hit him, hard and fast, absence of oxygen making everything sharper, more pleasurable, more… intense. Ryan gasped, head breaking through the surface of the water as his lungs dragged in great gasps of much needed air, his climax still driving into him as sharp as a marlin spike, as Stephen continued to suckle at his cock.

Fuck it, did the bastard have gills?

Feeling the final tremors of a spectacular climax still coursing through the soldier’s body, Stephen gave the head of his lover’s now softening cock a final flick with his tongue before he surfaced, a satisfied smile on his face.

Ryan let his head sink back onto the tiled floor of the bathroom as Stephen Hart kissed and licked his way up his heaving chest to deliver a deep and somewhat salty kiss. 

Then a voice husky with lust murmured in his ear, “Turn over and spread your legs,” and Ryan was certainly not in any fit state to argue.

Stephen grabbed a small sachet of conditioner, ripped it open with his teeth and dived one slick hand back under the bubbling surface of the water. The Special Forces captain was still shuddering and squirming as Stephen held him in position and slipped his cock past the tight ring of still muscle with little or no preparation.

Ryan tensed at the familiar stretch and burn, but not enough to deny Stephen entry. Breath hissed through his teeth as he pushed back against the intrusion, then relaxed, letting his lover slide in, hard and deep.

“If I spend the night farting bubbles, you’re going to be in trouble, Hart. You know shampoo’s off limits, you little sod.”

“It’s conditioner,” said Stephen smugly, setting up a hard, fast rhythm.

It was slightly more difficult to keep the momentum going whilst almost weightless in the water, but matching Ryan on his 200 sit-ups a day routine had honed Stephen’s abdominal muscles almost to the same extent as his lover’s, and he had the satisfaction of hearing Ryan’s breath being driven out of his body by the pounding the soldier was taking.

At the risk of de-stabilizing himself, Stephen slid one hand round Ryan’s hip and found his cock already hard again, no doubt as a result of the hammering his prostate was taking.

With a degree of coordination that Ryan hadn’t believed Stephen was capable of, especially not when semi-floating, the younger man kept up the movement of his hips and hand. In less than a minute, another wave of sensation pulsed through Ryan’s body, starting in his balls and spreading outwards like a wave, crashing across his brain like surf on rocks.

Later, much later, Ryan lay in the cooling water, eyes closed, his back resting against Stephen’s chest, damp head pillowed comfortably against a strong shoulder. He felt the gentle drift of his lover’s hands, toying with his nipples, teasing them to hardness.

“No way, not a third time,” pleaded Ryan, sleepily. “Balls’ll be like prunes if we stay in here much longer.”

“Romantic bastard,” chuckled Stephen, reaching for a very large, very fluffy white towel. “I’d better dry ‘em off, before they shrink…”

Ryan groaned, heaving himself out of the water, trying to stand on legs that felt distinctly wobbly, ignoring Stephen’s muttered Call me Ishmael as he wandered vaguely in the direction of the mini-bar, oblivious to the trail of wet footprints he was leaving behind.

Stephen grinned.

They had another night at least in this location before they could officially declare the moor clear of the compsognathus infestation. By the time he’d finished, Ryan would be begging for a night in a sleazy B & B instead.

That’d teach the sod not to cast aspersions on his lung capacity.


End file.
